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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22619170">lies whispered in my ear (how do i get out of here)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuelqueen/pseuds/fuelqueen'>fuelqueen</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>IT (Movies - Muschietti)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aged-Up Losers Club (IT), Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Soft Eddie Kaspbrak, Sonia Kaspbrak's A+ Parenting, The Losers Club (IT) Love Each Other, and he loves them back, everyone loves eddie kaspbrak</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 19:15:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,772</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22619170</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuelqueen/pseuds/fuelqueen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"His eyes drifted from the road ahead to his hands, gone white against the worn rubber of his handlebars. Hands that couldn’t be his. His hands - the ones he knew - were sick. His hands were fragile. The hands he looked at didn’t pump illness through his veins. They could not be his, the ones he’s grown accustomed to and learned to live with."</p><p>Eddie discovers his life is not what he has thought for the past seventeen years of his life. He seeks comfort in the only people who can make it better.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>78</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>lies whispered in my ear (how do i get out of here)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>title taken from the rolling stones' song "lies".</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Pharmacy issued plastic and white and yellow pills crashed to the ground, the smash deafening in the silent room. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>bullshit</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” Eddie screamed, spit flying from his lips and into the charged air between him and his paralyzed mother. He slammed his foot against the floor, the crunch of pills - </span>
  <em>
    <span>gazebos gazebos gazebos gazebos </span>
  </em>
  <span>- resonating under his shoe. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Below his shoe laid lost trust, lost opportunities, lost </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Eddie-bear…” his mother started slowly, reaching her hands tentatively out to him. He took a step back. “Everything I’ve ever done was to protect you. You know that.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve lied to me for...for my whole life, Mom, I can’t-” Eddie’s voice hitched. Silence rang. “I’m not sick...am I?” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Eddie-bear…” Her voice was a soft whisper, one that had always sent a chill up Eddie’s spine. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re ill, Eddie. You’re sick and need-”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“BULLSHIT!” Eddie cried, a shaking hand slamming against the wall, only hard enough to emphasize his point. “I-nothing’s wrong with me, isn’t that right? I don’t have-have all these allergies or low bone density or-or fucking asthma or…”His hands curled into fists at his sides, his throat stinging and breathing labored. They stood in electric silence for an eternity. He inhaled shakily. “I’m going to see my friends now.” He stated, in his most authoritative voice. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Be brave, be brave, be brave</span>
  </em>
  <span>,</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“After screaming and cursing at your mother?! I think not!” She hollered, her voice rising to a volume that made Eddie want to curl into a ball. “You’re not well, Eddie, no matter what you think you know-“ </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going </span>
  <em>
    <span>out</span>
  </em>
  <span>, mother.” He bolted past her, dodging her talons and ripping open the front door. He sprinted down the lawn, ignoring her screams and cries of protest launched at his back. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re abandoning me, Eddie-bear, all alone?! You get back here, you are not going to see those children ever again, they use you! They don’t love you as I do, Eddie get </span>
  <em>
    <span>back </span>
  </em>
  <span>here!” He jumped on his bike and pedaled as hard as his legs would carry him. The screams followed him all down the road. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The sun was setting, painting the Saturday autumn sky magnificent hues of orange and pink, all lost to Eddie and his blurred vision. He pedaled faster and faster, no matter how far away he got, his mother's voice was never too far behind, even if she hadn’t left their front lawn. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes drifted from the road ahead to his hands, gone white against the worn rubber of his handlebars. Hands that couldn’t be his. His hands - the ones he knew - were </span>
  <em>
    <span>sick</span>
  </em>
  <span>. His hands were </span>
  <em>
    <span>fragile</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The hands he looked at didn’t pump illness through his veins. They could not be his, the ones he’s grown accustomed to and learned to live with. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>It had been a regular monthly trip to the pharmacy, picking up his plethora of pills and a fresh inhaler. Greta Bowie gazed at him wolfishly from behind a </span>
  <em>
    <span>Seventeen</span>
  </em>
  <span> magazine as he avoided her eyes and anxiously waited for her father to return with the familiar white paper bag. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You know they’re bullshit, right?” His tentative eyes flicked up at her voice.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Huh?” She popped her gum obnoxiously. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“They’re placebos.” He was quiet for a beat.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“What’s a…” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“They’re bullshit. It means you’re not sick. They’re just sugar pills.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Did she know what she was doing when she told him? Did she know she would ruin everything his life had been about for as long as he could remember? Did she even care? Part of him wanted to believe that she was making things up just to get a rise out of him - to send him into a downward spiral simply for the fun of it. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>But the look that passed over his mother’s face after he smashed the pill bottles was undeniable. Somewhere deep inside him, he knew it was true.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He startled at the sound of a car horn, swerving as he migrated to the middle of the road. He blinked, pedaling harder until he was turning into Bill’s driveway. He let his bike fall next to six others, but he almost collapsed when there was no longer something under him to hold him or keep him moving forward, </span>
  <em>
    <span>away</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>His legs were jelly, and his arms were both weightless and immovable. He looked down at his body - this imposter. After almost 17 years, he felt like an alien in a body he had always been in. He didn’t recognize it. If he were to look in a mirror, would he even see himself? The self he had come to know after all this time? Or would it be someone different - someone tall and healthy and strong and something that was not the Edward Kaspbrak that had existed before now? Someone with working lungs and brain and regular internal functions and more and more </span>
  <em>
    <span>and more and more</span>
  </em>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“E-E-Eddie!” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Spaghetti man! About time you showed up, you’re like, half an hour late!” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Eddie looked away from his sneakers to Bill’s front porch, where Bill and Richie were walking towards him, both adorned with wide smiles. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Big Bill and I are gonna go pick up the pizzas, and yes, we got you gluten-free before you get your panties in a bunch. The others are in the baseme-” Richie’s face fell when his shitty eyesight finally focused on his boyfriend’s face, and it wasn’t until then that Eddie realized the tears on his face and that he couldn’t breathe. “Eds,” Richie and Bill broke into a run to meet their friend at the end of the lawn. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“E-E-Eddie, wuh-what happened?” Bill pushed, face etched with seriousness as the two boys carefully rested a hand on either of Eddie’s biceps. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Eds, did-did someone hurt you?” Eddie shook his head fretfully in Richie’s direction. “C’mon, talk to us, let us help,” Eddie pressed his palms to his sternum. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I-I-I...” He gasped wheezily, one hand jolting out to tangle in the fabric at Richie’s abdomen. “I can’t b-b-breathe, Rich, I-I-I-”</span>
  <em>
    <span> I’m going to die</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Eddie barely registered Richie’s free hand settling on the one tangled in his shirt. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s g-g-get him inside, Rich, c’mon.” The two led Eddie on wobbling legs back through the front door from whence they came. The next thing Eddie could properly process was the Denbroughs’ empty entryway. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re okay Eds, we’ve got you,” he felt Richie’s large hands digging in the fanny pack at his hip. His breathing somehow picked up even faster at the sight of the inhaler, making him bat it away like an unhappy baby. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Chee,” Eddie sobbed out, making both Richie and Bill pause and furrow their eyebrows. Richie settled a hand on the small of Eddie’s back. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“C’mon Eds, you need it,” Eddie clenched his eyes shut, feeling the plastic against his parted lips, submitting to the bullshit medicine. He heard it let out a </span>
  <em>
    <span>huff </span>
  </em>
  <span>as it traveled down his throat and into his lungs, where the gazebo sat alongside every other lie his body had been told. He closed his own shaky hands around the inhaler, reveling in the comfort it brought despite everything.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You got that?” He just nodded, eyes still clenched shut. Richie kept a hand on his back as he turned to Bill. “He needs some space right now, I’ll handle it. Go ahead and get the pizzas.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“G-g-</span>
  <em>
    <span>go</span>
  </em>
  <span> get the pizzas? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Now</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Eddie took another huff, feeling Richie’s fingers twitch against his back. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“C’mon Big Bill, he needs some space and you won’t be any good just sitting around here worrying. I’ve got it - promise.” Eddie could practically hear Bill weighing the options, but he ultimately knew this was Richie’s area of expertise. When it came to taking care of Eddie, the Losers all knew Richie reigned superior. Bill eventually let go of Eddie after one more squeeze to his shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Stan,” Bill called down the stairs. “Come help me g-get pizzas!” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Me</span>
  </em>
  <span>? What happened to that Tozier boy!?” Eddie didn’t hear the rest of the exchange, as his breathing was still erratic and with the knowledge that his medicine was fake, it was now useless in making him feel better. He let out a frustrated sob. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s-it’s b-bu-bullshit, it’s bullshit, it’s all bullshit, bullshit bullshit </span>
  <em>
    <span>bullshit</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he hissed, clenching the inhaler in his palms, wishing it would crack in his grasps. Richie plucked it from his hands as Stan came trudging up the steps. Eddie opened his eyes to see him give him a worried look. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Eddie, what-” Bill tugged him out of the house as quickly as he could. “Wait, what’s wrong with Eddie-!?” The door slammed behind them.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey Spaghetti, hey,” Eddie allowed his swimming gaze to focus on Richie’s face, those big eyes behind big dumb glasses and wild curls. Hands rested on his shoulders. “You’re having a panic attack, okay? You know what to do, this isn’t our first rodeo, yeah? Think about that breathing exercise, okay? Can you do that?” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I-I,” Eddie gasped, fervently shaking his head. “I don’t remember the numbers, Rich, I don-I don’t remember the numbers,” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re gonna breathe in for four seconds, hold it for seven, and exhale for eight. I’ll help you, you can do it,” he tugged Eddie’s hand to rest on his chest. “Follow my lead, Spaghetti, I’m right here.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>They might have stood there for hours, Eddie wasn’t sure, as they breathed in sync while Richie quietly counted for them both. Slowly but surely, the room stopped spinning, he didn’t think he was about to collapse, his heart didn’t feel like it was about to explode. It felt like whatever tornado he had been caught in was dissipating, or the hill he was uncontrollably tumbling down was leveling out. He blinked the haziness away, eyes finally focusing on Richie’s concerned gaze. He gave the shorter boy a soft smile and kiss on the forehead, hands settled gently on his jaw. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“There he is.” Eddie blinked heavily, eyes finally taking in his surroundings. Despite his vision no longer stuck in a dark, one-sided tunnel, he still glued his gaze to the boy before him.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Richie…” His voice sounded absolutely shot. Richie smiled sadly, a firm hand running up and down his back. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi, Eds.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Eddie blinked once more, and before he could make sense of anything else, his face immediately crumbled into silent, body-shaking sobs. Richie immediately gathered him up in his arms. Eddie wound his arms tightly around Richie’s midsection as he cradled the sobbing boy’s head, his free hand rubbing up and down his shaking back. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Richie stayed mostly quiet as Eddie cried himself dry. When he began to calm down, Richie turned to press a kiss to his temple, pulling back just far enough to look Eddie in his big, sad eyes. He let out a sad little hiccup. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m gonna get you some water, alright?” Eddie tightened his hold around Richie’s waist and pouted, pressing his cheek to his chest. Richie chuckled quietly, a hand still stroking Eddie’s back. “You can come with me if you’d like.” Richie pulled back to run his hands up and down the other’s exposed arms. “Can’t believe Sonia let you out of the house without any kind of jacket. You’re freezing, babe, I’ll have to lecture her about her rambunctious kid next time I’m around.” Eddie hesitated, causing an obvious shift in his demeanor.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Can we please not talk about her right now?” Richie was quiet for a moment before ruffling Eddie’s hair and shrugging off the black and red flannel he wore unbuttoned over his AC/DC t-shirt. Eddie took it without any prompting, sliding the worn, toasty fabric over his shivery form. Richie led him by the hand into the Denbroughs’ kitchen, quietly directing him to wash off his face while he fixed a glass of ice water.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“My legs feel like jello.” Eddie murmured quietly, accepting the tall glass of water and sipping at it carefully. Richie leaned against the counter, wiggling his eyebrows.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Mind if I have a taste?” Eddie gagged, cradling his cup to his chest like a child with a stuffed animal. “I didn’t get a hello kiss, I’m all hot and bothered.” Richie pouted, making Eddie roll his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I was busy being a human trainwreck.” Even so, Eddie stepped into Richie’s space and leaned up on his toes, softly pressing his lips to Richie’s.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>It sent a jolt through his chest, being able to do this somewhere that wasn’t their locked rooms. Bill had promised his parents and Georgie were out of town for the weekend for his dad’s job, ensuring their little get together would be totally private. Even so, in an empty, windowless kitchen with their closest friends who couldn’t care less downstairs, it felt like rebellion. In a town like Derry, it kind of was. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>They pulled apart, lips mere centimeters away from each other. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“If it makes any difference, I still think you’re the </span>
  <em>
    <span>damned </span>
  </em>
  <span>cutest human trainwreck who ever lived.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Eddie shut him up with another kiss. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>---- </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait wait wait...</span>
  <em>
    <span>gazebos</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The Denbroughs’ living room was full of the smell of the numerous pizzas, sides, and desserts the ravenous Losers had ordered and promptly dug into. They set up camp on the overly cushy L-shaped sofa, a movie paused on the television. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Eddie nodded, still staring at his untouched slice. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The others were silent. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I think...I think my uncle has a gazebo…” Eddie looked up to see Stan’s confused face. “In his backyard.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s…” Eddie huffed, reaching for a napkin to wipe his greasy fingers with. “A fake medicine, my medicines are </span>
  <em>
    <span>gazebos</span>
  </em>
  <span>, that’s what Greta told me…” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I think what you might mean is a </span>
  <em>
    <span>placebo</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Eddie,” Ben offered gently. Eddie licked his lips, hands mindlessly twisting the napkin around his fingers. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Well whatever the word is, it means my medicine is </span>
  <em>
    <span>fake</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The room went silent. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“So...does that mean…” Bev sounded too afraid to say what she was thinking, and Eddie couldn’t blame her. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yuh-yuh-your illnesses,” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Are fake.” Eddie forced out. An even heavier silence rang. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Can...she can’t do that, that’s…” Richie finally spoke from Eddie’s right, his arm thrown over the back of his boyfriend’s seat. Richie turned to Mike. “Can she do that?” Mike shrugged grimly. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Sounds like it. If not, she already did.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Greta said they…” Eddie gulped, pushing his plate and now-shredded napkin onto the table full of pizza, “the pills are just sugar capsules. They’re sugar capsules, all of these drugs, this-this fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>inhaler </span>
  </em>
  <span>are all just…” </span>
  <em>
    <span>bullshit</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he couldn’t force himself to say through his tensed jaw. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fucking bullshit</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Richie gently tugged him to lay back against his side, his arm now secure around Eddie’s shoulders. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I trusted her with everything. I trusted her to keep me alive, and all this time…she’s been lying right to my face.” He ran an arm underneath his eyes. “That’s the worst part, I think. She’s had so much power over me for so long and...and she </span>
  <em>
    <span>lied</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Eddie...I’m so sorry,” Bev whispered. He bit his lip, shaking his head against more oncoming tears. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>kill </span>
  </em>
  <span>her,” Richie hissed, Stan seconding the sentiment with a finger and a nod in his direction.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up,” Eddie sighed out, looking down at his hands in his lap.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I don’t care, this is…” Richie sat up, looking straight at Eddie. “This is bad, is there - there’s gotta be some kind of law for this, something like...I dunno, perjury? We learned that word in government the other day, right?” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“She wasn’t sworn by oath to tell Eddie the truth,” Stan mumbled. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever it is, it’s gotta be illegal!” Richie exclaimed, settling back when Eddie tugged at his arm hard enough so he could rest his body against Richie’s larger one once more. The room was quiet, everyone processing the information just given to them. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I just…” Eddie inhaled shakily. “It sounds so stupid…but I feel like I don’t know who I am anymore.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Bullshit.” Richie’s voice came with no bite at all. “You’re Eddie </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking </span>
  </em>
  <span>Spaghetti.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“But it just… it feels like everything I’ve ever done revolves around my sickness.” Eddie sat up, a hand pushing through frazzled hair. “Before doing anything I have to consider my sickness, everything people think of me most likely revolves around my sickness, what I can and can’t do depends on my sickness, I just f-feel like I’m not...me.” Richie gently tugged him back into his side before he could work himself up all over again, a calming hand massaged at his shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“So it affected the way you look at some aspects of life, oh well. It may always. “ Mike said. “But just because this thing had a big effect on you doesn’t mean it’s your entire personality.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Being sick has no relation to the fact you know everything there is to know about Green Lantern.” Ben supplied. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Or that you’re a sarcastic little turd,” Bev added with a soft smile, reaching over and rubbing Eddie’s socked foot. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“It has nothing to do with the fact that you're a good runner,” Mike added.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Or have a thing for tall, dark, and handsome men.” Richie grinned, long, annoying fingers tugging at a lock of Eddie’s hair, making him scoff. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Or the fact you’re p-patient enough to puh-put up with R-Rich’s sorry ass.” Bill jeered. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Or that you care about the people around you like your life depends on it.” Stan finished quietly. He sighed. “Your past is allowed to change you, Eddie. Not define you.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Eddie sat quietly, eyes focused on where his fingers were absentmindedly sliding in and out of the rips in Richie’s jeans. Richie rested a hand on Eddie’s wandering one, making him meet his amplified eyes behind coke-bottle glasses. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“What has happened to you for...</span>
  <em>
    <span>years</span>
  </em>
  <span> now is inexcusable.” He murmured.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re allowed to be mad and sad and lost and hurt,” Bev added. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“But you’re still Eddie Kaspbrak. No amount of medicine or lack thereof will change that. You’re…</span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> much more than all of that. I hate that this has happened to you, but I promise you, you’re going to take this situation by the balls and own it because you’re Eddie and that’s what you do.” Eddie flushed and gave a watery smile, squeezing his hand. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“When’d you get so smart?” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, what the fuck?” Stan chuckled, making the room laugh. Eddie turned to smile at his friends, the people who supported him at his lowest and celebrated him in his highest and loved him at all times, no matter what. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Family is what you make it, and I’ve made a damned good one here</span>
  </em>
  <span>.’</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry I killed the mood for tonight. I love you guys a lot.” Eddie sniffled shyly, rubbing at his eyes and looking down at his knees.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, shut up, Kaspbrak, we love you too much to care,” Bev scoffed, standing up and throwing herself on top of Eddie, followed by the rest of the Losers despite Eddie’s displeased squawks. They laid there in the dogpile for a minute, giggling and hugging and teasing. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“So if all of this medicine is fake, does that mean I can finally try out your inhaler?” Richie’s voice came from somewhere in the pile, making a few of them groan. Eddie sighed, digging, with trouble, in his fanny pack. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah yeah, whatever.” Everyone stood and returned to their seats, grabbing more food as they passed. Mike hit play on the TV as Eddie watched Richie take a puff of his inhaler, an eyebrow raised. Richie furrowed his eyebrows and examined the piece of plastic, making Eddie’s anxiety spike. “What-what’s wrong?” He asked tentatively, drawing back the attention of the others who had gone back to their conversations or watching the movie. Richie held his head in his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“A-are you sure this had nothing in this thing?” He asked, his voice suddenly thin and strung out. Eddie’s hands were immediately on Richie, checking his pulse and heartbeat and even his forehead. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I-I mean she told me they were the gaz-placebos so I-I assumed it was? You don’t think it-it actually had stuff, you think I actually do have asthma or-or...?” Richie pressed a hand to his chest, mouth slowly opening and a look of fear on his face. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, someone call 911-” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I dunno what’s in there Spaghetti, but I can sure see why you’ve latched onto it for so many years!” Richie exclaimed, his voice pitched up as if he had inhaled an entire tank of helium. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>It took Eddie a second to fully catch up, but when he did he was livid, one hand pointing a finger in his face while the other one grabbed at Richie’s collar. The others laughed and booed, throwing popcorn in Richie’s direction. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I swear to all that is good I will fucking murder you, Tozier, do not for a </span>
  <em>
    <span>second </span>
  </em>
  <span>think I won’t, do you fucking understand me, you absolute </span>
  <em>
    <span>dickwad</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>bitch</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you almost gave me a heart attack,” Richie had burst into boisterous laughter, his voice returned to his regular pitch as he wound his arms around Eddie’s waist, pulling him flush against him.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“What a little dick,” Bev chuckled, turning back to the movie and her garlic knots. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The rest of the night was much better as they stuffed themselves obscenely with junk food, watched good movies, and played silly party games. They stayed up into the small hours of the night, all tangled and cuddled up with a plethora of pillows and blankets on the living room floor. Eddie laid awake longest, wedged between Stan and Richie as he gazed out the nearby window and thanking every star and more for the people laid next to him - through thick and through thin. He felt Richie stir next to him, bleary eyes squinting over at him. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You up, Ed?” Eddie just hummed quietly in response. Richie let his eyes close once more. “Go to sleep, babe.” He mumbled, letting a hand fall to Eddie’s chest. Eddie couldn’t help his dopey smile. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” he breathed back, leaning over and pressing a soft kiss to Richie’s sleeping lips. They quirked up in a crooked smile. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I have one, too?” Stan mumbled from his right, making Eddie stifle a laugh as he pecked his forehead. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Now everyone shut up and sleep.” Eddie murmured, snuggling down and letting his eyelids finally fall shut. He fell asleep that night surrounded by more love than he had ever thought possible. </span>
</p><p>
  <span></span><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thank you for reading!! I haven't publicly posted a fic in like five years since ye olde days of wattpad, I hope you enjoy!</p><p>comments always appreciated!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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